


santa claus is coming to town.

by impossiblepluto



Series: have yourself a fluffy, whumpy christmas [5]
Category: MacGyver (TV 2016)
Genre: Christmas, Found Family, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-05
Updated: 2019-12-05
Packaged: 2021-02-26 00:22:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,299
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21594514
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/impossiblepluto/pseuds/impossiblepluto
Summary: Sometimes, you can go home again. After the events of 1x11, Jack and Riley go to their diner.
Relationships: Jack Dalton (MacGyver TV 2016) & Riley Davis
Series: have yourself a fluffy, whumpy christmas [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1552330
Comments: 26
Kudos: 51





	santa claus is coming to town.

**Author's Note:**

> So, did anyone watch 1x11 yesterday? I watched it about 3 time while writing this little series and cried every time!  
> This is the last day focusing on Jack and Riley, back to your regularly scheduled whump tomorrow.
> 
> For those of you finding this in the future and not reading along day by day, it would be helpful to read:  
>  _he sees you when you're sleeping._  
>  _he knows when you're awake._  
>  and  
>  _be good for goodness sake._  
>  before reading this story :)

_It’s Beginning to Look a Lot Like New Year’s  
...Since they were in a Chinese prison for Christmas  
_

A warm puff of air spiced with cinnamon wafts across her skin and tickles her nose as she opens the door. 

Her knees tremble and the butterflies fluttering in her stomach chase away her appetite, even for her favorite french toast. She doesn’t know why she’s so nervous about this. She talked with Jack. Yelled at him, if she’s being truthful. She thought maybe she ruined this thing with him, and subsequently with Mac too. Hearing that Jack didn't think he could trust her. Didn't think he could work with her stung more than she ever thought possible. 

She confronted him. Cried in anger and the hurt of a teenage girl abandoned by the only man she’s ever called her dad. With the fear of a young woman scare to lose her family.

She doesn’t know what kind of reaction she expected after that mission, but a tearful hug on Mac's deck and an invitation to the diner, their diner, wasn’t it. 

She hasn’t been here in years, but it still looks and smells exactly the same. The same retro shiny red vinyl on the booths, the black and white checkered floor. Jukebox in the corner is playing a familiar song. 

_“Everybody out there been good or what?”_

The record captures the faint cheering of the live audience.

 _“Oh that’s not many, not many,”_ Bruce teases as his audience twitters in delight. 

_“Well, you better watch out,_  
_You better not cry_ ,  
_You better not pout,_  
_I’m telling you why…”_

She dodges waitstaff and other patrons. The path between tables is tighter than she remembers, and she’s jostled from every direction as she makes her way to the table in the corner. 

Jack’s back is to the wall. As per usual.

So many things about him start to make sense, pieces falling into place as she digs into his background. He’s still Jack. Still a goofball and dramatic and she wonders how he managed to hang onto that sometimes child-like delight after reading about some of the missions he’s been on. The things he’s done to save lives. She can’t reconcile that with the man she remembers as a child.

His eyes are on the menu, but she knows that he already clocked her coming in, knows how many people sit at the counter and how many fry cooks are in the back. 

The coffee cup at the seat perpendicular to him is upright, and steaming. Just-filled, moments before she entered the diner. White gauze stretches across his hand, covering the electrical burns that mar his palm.

He pulls off his old man reading glasses as she sits down. 

“I didn’t know you wore glasses.”

“Don’t really need ‘em. It’s the glare on these greasy menus.”

She chuckles as she unwraps her scarf, draping it over the back of her chair. “I didn’t know this place was still here.”

Jack’s brown eyes are soft. “You haven’t been back?”

Riley shakes her head. 

“Me either.”

“But you loved this place. I thought you’d eat here every day if mom would let you.”

“I loved bringing you to this place.” 

Riley busies herself looking through the condiments on the table for some sweetener. 

“After I left, I came here one day, a couple of months later. Sat in the parking lot and couldn’t bring myself to go in. Almost… almost called your mom.”

Riley doesn’t look up. She can’t meet his eyes. She shakes the small packet in her hand, tearing it open and dumping the contents into her coffee.

“I knew that I was making a mistake when I left.”

“Didn’t stop you though.” She still can’t look up. Her fingers twist the small wrapper, folding and worrying the paper. She should have asked Mac for a couple of paperclips before she came. She can understand the appeal of having something else to focus on, to keep her hands busy.

“No, it didn’t. I thought I was the only one who’d be hurt by leaving.”

“How could you think that?” Riley looks up, brown eyes meeting brown eyes. Her eyebrow quirked in confusion. Even without a mirror, she knows it’s an expression that her mom used to say she learned from Jack. She'd been so proud to hear those words, something tangible that she shared with Jack. Until he left and she saw his expressions in her own reflection.

Jack opens his mouth, then closes it. He shrugs, shaking his head. His eyes are suddenly moist. “I tried to tell myself that. That it would be easier for you. That you wouldn’t care.”

“I tried to find you,” Riley says quietly. “But, um, Jack Dalton, bathroom tile salesman sort of fell off the map for a bit.”

“I went back to the CIA. Tried to forget everything. It didn’t work real well.”

“Worked well enough, I guess,” she pushes. Despite the forgiveness offered on both sides in the last few days, there’s still a lot of years of hurt to work through.

“I went back with my Delta unit for a while before joining up with Mac for what was supposed to be my last three months, but then I stuck around for him."

Rilely rubs her arm. She’s well aware of the timeline. Has counted out the days, remembering where life took her while Jack was in Afghanistan. What she was doing while Jack stayed for Mac.

She’s not jealous. She doesn’t dwell on it. Doesn’t allow herself to wonder how things might have changed if he’d come home sooner, because she’s read up on Mac’s military career too. There’s a sick feeling of dread that comes over her when she thinks of Jack leaving him behind. She knows that Mac would have come home in a box if Jack had left him.

Mac filled a gaping hole in her heart that she didn’t even know was there. The thought of not having him in her life steals her breath like a suckerpunch. Painful and aching.

“I got home in time to hear that you’d been arrested. I should have checked in with you. I should have made sure you were okay. I messed up, Riley. And I’m sorry.”

Tears fill her eyes.

“I tried… I tried to see you. I called in every favor I was ever owed. Thought maybe I could even get them to release you into my custody,” Jack laughs bitterly, rubbing his eyes. “Everybody laughed in my face at that one, but I was desperate. I’m so sorry darlin’ that I couldn’t do more. That I couldn’t save you from prison.”

Riley’s eyes narrow in realization. “You… you hired my lawyer.”

Jack shrugs. “A lot of good it did.”

She turns to look out across the diner, tears blurring the scene. She never understood where the man who showed up in her cell one day, claiming to be her legal counsel had come from. His wardrobe costing thousands of dollars, she didn't understand why he would decide to help her. Even wondered if The Collective had hired him so she would remain indebted to them.

“Riley,” Jack’s voice is gentle. His hand stretched out on the table, palm up, eyes imploring. 

Her eyes scan his face, dropping to his gauze covered hand and back again. Slowly, she extends her arm, placing her hand in his. His fingers close tightly around hers and she feels familiar callouses. Callouses that he told her came from years of demonstrating the proper way to caulk bathroom tile. 

“Leaving you was the biggest mistake I ever made. And I’m so sorry, honey.”

She presses her lips together, trying to blink back tears. “Just-- just don’t do it again.”

“I won't. I promise.” 


End file.
